Consequences
by Merlin71
Summary: SPOILERS for HIVE After all the build up with Steve and Shep, and Bob and Shep...the Queen did nothing with Shep. It was a wasted opportunity and here is a request fic to make up for it.


"What is your name?" Whispered the Wraith queen.

John fought against the hold she had on him. Somehow, using her mind, she had forced him to his knees and he remained there, helpless. It wasn't a feeling he was overly fond of. If she could control his body so easily, he had to worry about what she could do to his mind. It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out his name, instead he managed to say, "I...I forget." But it cost him. And with a wave of one hand in front of his face, John found himself on his hands and knees, fighting to hold back a scream as agony rippled through him, searing his nerve endings. When it finally abated and he was panting in relief, he couldn't help but think back to Sumner. He wondered if this was what the other man had suffered through before John had put a bullet in his heart.

The Queen gripped John's chin, pushing him back onto his knees, then a sharp fingernail trailed over the curve of his jaw. "What is your name?" she repeated.

"James...T...Kirk." The words were forced out through gritted teeth. But it was worth it because the Queen backed off and John felt as if he could breathe again. But the respite was short-lived.

"Where are you from...Kirk!" The Queen demanded, and her eyes were blazing now as she walked a slow circle around him.

John didn't bother to reply. It wasn't as if he were going to tell her anyway. Instead, he struggled to rise to his feet and he felt no small measure of satisfaction when he managed to stand up and face her.

The Queen moved closer. "Tell me where you come from!" she snarled.

"Far far away," John drawled, and that earned him a slap in the face that knocked him off his feet and before he could scramble back up he felt a pressure in his head. The pressure increased and John heard whispers echoing in his ears. He realized the queen was trying to get in his head. He couldn't let her do that. _No no no! _John thought, frantically. Then he did something he'd probably be embarrassed about later. He tried to concentrate on erecting mental shields. Anything to keep her out of his head.

"TELL ME!" The Queen shouted, as she loomed over him. She reached out and touched his face.

John gasped as the pressure increased and pain stabbed into his temples. Remembering something he'd seen in a movie once, John gave it a shot if only as a distraction from the pain. He imagined himself reaching out and grabbing the Queen by the throat, then snapping her neck. Even though it wasn't real, it made him happy to focus on it. Then, suddenly, the pain in his head was gone and John slumped over. He was shaking and his skin was slicked in a cold sweat. After a moment he managed to stop the room from spinning and then he blinked hard and found the Wraith queen. She was pacing around him again. "So.." John's voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat before trying again. "What's your name? I could...I could give you one. I'm getting pretty good at it."

Without warning the Queen gestured to her men. They hauled John to his feet, holding him between them. The Queen smiled at him as she approached. "I know who you are," she breathed. "I know what you did."

"Yeah...what?" John challenged, resisting the urge to try and shrug out of the hands holding him. He knew he couldn't budge them so why waste energy trying, but he was really getting tired of being manhandled.

"You killed the others," she purred. "I felt them die. But they warned me about you. That you were different."

John nodded, wincing as pain crackled through his head. "That's me...different," he conceded.

The queen gripped his chin in one hand, then she was leaning in to lock eyes with him. "How did you fly our ship?"

"I'm a good pilot," John replied, then he flinched when a taloned finger stroked down his cheek. The queen was eyeing him like she was hungry and he was the main course. Which gave John the creeps, but he didn't let what he was feeling show on his face. "Look…I'm not going to tell you what you want to know so why don't we move on. You let me and my people go and we'll let you live." He knew she wouldn't buy it but he figured it was worth a shot. He sure as hell didn't have anything to lose at this point.

"You are not like the others," said the Queen, then she leaned in and sniffed him.

John tried to pull back but the muscled bound Wraith held him steady. "The others?" he countered, hoping to distract her. He really wasn't in the mood to have the life sucked out of him just yet.

The Queen lifted one hand and ruffled his hair, as if checking its texture against her slimy looking skin. "You carry our scent, it is difficult to detect...but there."

"Yeah?" John realized he wasn't really holding up his end of the conversation but she'd just thrown him for a loop. The memory of almost turning into an Iratus bug was all too vivid. It had only been a couple of months. Beckett had assured John he was one hundred percent human, but apparently the pheromones were still clinging to him. Not good.

"You are not one of us…or one of them," The Queen continued. "You are of the old ones."

John frowned at that, and he was relieved when she finally stepped away from him. "Old ones?" he prompted.

The Queen made a face as if she'd gotten a whiff of something rank. "Lanteans!" she hissed. "You are one of them!"

"Don't know what you're talking about," John drawled, only to break off when the pressure came back. This time worse than before and he yanked free of the hands holding him, falling to his knees and gripping his head as if to hold it in place. His stomach twisted into knots and John fought against a sudden wave of nausea. He fought to clear his mind of any thoughts of Atlantis or Earth. His vision grayed out and he fought against it, falling onto his side and curling up as the pain intensified.

"Tell me where you come from!" the Queen demanded.

John forced his eyes open, forced himself to glare at her through a hazy red blur, then he whispered, "The land...land...of Oz!" Somehow he managed to push up to his hands and knees and lift his head but when he did that he felt something warm trickle from his nose and over his lip. John lifted one hand. It was blood. God...he was probably hemorrhaging and that should have terrified him and pissed him off, but all he could think of was that at least he wasn't going to die by having the life sucked out of him. It was his last moment of awareness before darkness claimed him.

He heard someone calling his name. A familiar voice. Teyla. John forced his eyes open and blinked hard to bring her face into focus. She was hovering over him and he realized his head was in her lap. Again. "Teyla.." John whispered.

"Yes...are you all right?" She looked relieved.

"Been...better." John tried to sit up but everything hurt and Teyla was gripping his shoulder to keep him down. "Have I been back long?"

Ronon moved into his sight line and said, "Maybe an hour your time."

Ford moved closer, his face taut and pinched. "What happened?" he demanded.

"The Queen wanted to chat," John replied. He tried sitting up again but only made it with Ronon's help.

"What did you tell her?" Ford's question was more an accusation.

John didn't look at him as he pushed to his feet. Again he needed Ronon's help and he felt unsteady as he stepped towards the locked doors. "We need to get out of here."

Ford looked pissed. "I'll figure out a way."

"You do that," John drawled. He studied the panel he had seen the Wraith guards use to open the door. "Anybody got a knife?" John asked, not feeling overly hopeful. Yet he wasn't all that surprised when Ronon held one out. "Aim for the center," John told him.

Ten minutes and half a dozen knives later...they were free.

THE END


End file.
